Hold Me When I'm Cold
by Aldira
Summary: Harry found it strange that the only times when he was the warmest was in the presence of Jack Frost himself. Future slash.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series, and DreamWorks, producer of _Rise of the Guardians_.

Warnings: future slash, meaning boyxboy

**Hold Me When I'm Cold**

Harry Potter hated winter. The nights were colder as he spent his time locked inside his cupboard with nothing but thin blankets. His limbs were always stiff and numb when he was startled awake to the sound of his aunt pounding on the wooden door, shrieking at him to start his morning chores. The rags he called clothes did nothing to shield the chilly air as he was forced to weed the garden. Visible vapor from his breath swirled and danced around him. The world was an ugly mixture of brown and white from the earth peeking out from below gradually growing snow. Once he was done with his work, his fingers and toes, which previously held a concerning slight blue tint, were an angry red from uprooting prickly weeds and standing in piles of frost all day. Trekking inside with his now damp clothes, after a stern order to not leave any residue behind, Harry was shoved into the bathroom where he was finally allowed to seek refuge from the cold. Turning the knob all the way to the other side, he shed his clothes and folded them neatly into a pile before carefully climbing into the tub. He watched the steam billow all around him and breathed in the warm air, soaking up as much of it as possible. Relaxing into the liquid fire until his skin was a bright shade of red and his fingers were all shriveled up, he ignored the fact that he stayed in there much longer than he should have. It was worth it, even if he was sent to his cupboard early with only a bruised apple for dinner.

Huddling into a dark corner, Harry burrowed into the sheets as much as possible, capturing any semblance of heat with his makeshift barriers. Yes, the brunet hated winter. It was cold and dark.

_And lonely,_ he added silently as a bout of shivering took over his body.

But, something soon changed that. And that something came in the form of one Jack Frost.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series, and DreamWorks, producer of _Rise of the Guardians._

Warnings: future slash, meaning boyxboy

**Hold Me When I'm Cold**

As soon as the bell chimed, signaling the start of recess, Harry silently ducked out the door and ran as silently as he could to the library, and despite the crunch of snow under his sneakers were rather loud, it didn't compare to the stampede of children running in the opposite direction to the playground. Once inside the warm sanctuary that the school library provided, he walked to the very back, to hide behind tall bookcases. Finding a table in the secluded corner, Harry shrugged off his thin coat before deciding to find a good book to read. He curiously glanced at the few proudly displayed on the counter, hesitantly taking one and returning to his table. Brushing his fingers over the gold lettering of the title cover, which had _Myths and Legends_ proudly presented, he turned to the first page.

The Entity of Winter Itself: Jack Frost…

* * *

After reading through a good half of the admittedly thick book, Harry was startled out of the chapter about Santa Claus when the bell rang once more. He reluctantly placed the book back on the counter, committing the name of the author and title to memory before draping his coat over his shoulders.

Stepping out into the cold, Harry was greeted by a burst of cutting wind, face stinging from the biting snow strung along. Making his way to his classroom, he froze when the unmistakable sound of his cousin's voice reached his ears. Crouching low to the ground, Harry waited into the faint outline of his cousin and Piers enter the room before standing up himself. Brushing the clumps of snow from his clothes, Harry hated winter slightly less now.

_At least it makes it easier to hide from Dudley,_ he thought.

* * *

Shivering under the unmerciful chill of a freezing night in England, Harry took back what he had previously said. Winter was horrid. He shifted from one foot to another, trying to muster up any available heat in his legs. Rubbing his arms furiously, Harry decided that the Dursleys would not be letting him in tonight. Why did such freakish things always happen to him? He paced a few more times before crouching at the base of the tree, huddling into himself to preserve warmth.

_What if I die from hypothermia?_ Teeth chattering, Harry bitterly mused. _I hope the Dursleys get charged with murder or something when that happens._

Tugging the collar of his coat up, Harry tried his best to protect his ears, remembering vaguely that body heat was lost the quickest from the head and feet.

_This was going to be a long night._


End file.
